Gemotions

The chipped porcelain of the teacup felt cold against Ethan’s fingers. His sister, Olivia, was already in the garden, whistling as she pruned the roses. He had always been the one who retreated, the one who watched from the sidelines. Now, with the weight of the house pressing down on him, this habit felt especially burdensome.

He glanced around the kitchen, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. The fridge was bare, the counters cluttered. He should be making a grocery list, but the task seemed insurmountable. He felt a profound aversion to taking charge, to making any decisions.

Olivia’s cheery voice drifted in from the garden. “Ethan, you want to come help?” He took another sip of tea, the silence a shield against a world that seemed to demand competence. He felt relief washing over him, and a small, shameful smile crept across his face.